Crazy... and alive.
Everyone snaps supportively, and I go back to my seat feeling lighter than I’ve felt in a long time. It’s not a “good” poem necessarily. It’s unedited and rough, but it’s a big step for me. Jamal kisses me again, and I can’t tell if I’m still manic, or if this euphoric feeling is real. The coffee tastes divine, the music has us all dancing, and the love is warm.
It isn’t until I hear God’s familiar voice in my ear, repeating the signal he had for me before, that I’m sure.
It is time to come home, my son.
So I am still manic. But it’s okay. No one here will let me hurt myself, and I don’t want to anymore. I squeeze Jamal’s hand tighter and look around the room at everyone I love. Who loves me.
Maybe I’ll have a complicated relationship with God for the rest of my life. Maybe I don’t know what to call God anymore. I don’t know what’s holy and what isn’t. Maybe God really is just the universe, or science, or all of it, including Jamal and me and my family and friends and everyone and everything in existence. Maybe we’re all a little bit sacred.
Until now, I thought the thing I was most afraid of was going to hell, but I’m done pretending to be something I’m not to find my way to heaven.
The world, God, and the entire universe can disapprove of what I have with Jamal, but my entire universeisJamal. It’s Yami. It’s all of them. If there’s a heaven without them, I don’t want it.
I look around at all the people sacred to me. I know being loved doesn’t mean I’m magically fixed. It doesn’t mean my life will be easy, or that I won’t one day hit another rock bottom and do all of this over again. But there will also be moments like this. There will always be little glimpses of heaven I don’t have to die for.
And that’s enough to keep me going until I find the next one. I even look forward to it.
Epilogue
“Okay, you go first,” Yami says over the phone as I lie in bed in my Barrett dorm room. She had this idea for a game she wants to try. Since she moved to Flagstaff with Bo to go to NAU, our sibling telepathy doesn’t work over long distances. So the game is to take turns saying the usually unspoken thing out loud.
“Umm... I don’t think I’ve ever been more sore in my life,” I admit. I can hardly move from my spot in bed, completely exhausted from a long day of helping Abuela move in with Doña Violeta. She says she wanted to move there to be closer to Mami without them having to get on each other’s last nerve, but I happen to know better.
I think back to the time I accidentally saw Doña Violeta braiding Abuela’s hair. The time they held hands under the table at Jamal’s open mic. I smile to myself and roll over in bed. I’ll keep their secret as long as they want me to.
“That doesn’t count.” I can almost hear Yami’s eye roll. “You have to say something you normally wouldn’t. Like, imagine I canread your mind, but it’s the stuff you wouldn’t say out loud.”
“Okay. I miss you.” I don’t hesitate to admit it.
“I miss you, too.”
“You can’t steal my thing,” I scold with a finger raised even though she can’t see. “You have to say something different.”
She laughs before sighing and saying, “I wonder if I made the right choice by coming here.”
“Do you like it there?” I ask.
“I really, really love it,” she says.
“What’s the problem then?”
“I just worry about you and Mami, you know?”
“We’re doing all right. This is the first time I think you’veeverdone something for you. You definitely made the right choice. But if you miss us so much, maybe we should do a weekend trip up there,” I say, as if it’s only her missing us and not the other way around.
We spend the next few minutes planning a trip before saying our goodbyes. My alarm goes off a few minutes later to take my meds. It’s been a new development, trying to take them in the evening instead of the morning. Dr. Lee thinks this might make me less tired during the day, and it seems to be working out well so far.
I get out of bed and pop my meds in my mouth, swallowing them with a swig of my water bottle. I know now I’ll probably have to be on medication for the rest of my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m broken or bad. Some people’s brains make mental stability for free, and I just so happen to have to get mine at the pharmacy, and fuck anyone who tries to make me feel any kind of way about it.
I check my phone to see a text from Moni with a link to her new online store, which she rebranded into the Tampossibilities. Now she sells discreet packages disguised as period products. She’s not officially selling anything illegal, but she fully hints that you can hide weed in there. I’m not surprised she’s already figured something else out that seems to be taking off, but it’s still a relief to see it working out for her.
My phone buzzes again with a text from Jamal, and I can’t help but smile as I read it.
Jamal:Stars are beautiful tonight. Meet me at the secret garden?
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m already throwing on my sweater and hopping into some jeans, and I’m out the door before my roommate can ask where I’m headed.
I make my way into the secret garden, fully ignoring the flowers, roses, and fountain in favor of the beautiful man waiting for me. He’s sitting on a bench looking up at the sky, so mesmerized by the stars he barely notices me until I sit right next to him and kiss his cheek. He smiles and turns his head to return my kiss, our lips softly colliding like we haven’t seen each other all day, which we haven’t.
He takes my hand in his, and the love in his gaze rushes over me.
“I love you.” I answer his unspoken declaration as I kiss the back of his hand, letting the warmth of his adoration envelop me like a blanket. We stare into each other’s eyes instead of at the stars. He’s beautiful, and he’s here, and I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.
